


A Serious Case of Social Service

by Sehgaara



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Graffiti, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mentioned Seongjoong, Misunderstandings, Science Major!Mingi, artist!Yeosang, mentioned Woosan, mostly just fluff, world's best friend!Yunho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehgaara/pseuds/Sehgaara
Summary: It is the tail end of summer when Mingi comes across this particularly wretched piece of art outside his apartment building - a wobbly dick painted a wall’s length in neon green front and center of his apartment entrance.In the oppressive summer heat when shirts always seem to stick to your back in that uncomfortable way, and the concrete pavements seem to be steaming from the day's heat, a beautiful boy cleaning the offensive 'art' right off.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: RARETEEZ





	A Serious Case of Social Service

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [AteezRarePairFest2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AteezRarePairFest2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Mingi catches Yeosang cleaning up some graffiti on the apartment building he lives in and congratulates Yeosang on being an awesome person and decides to help him clean. Little does he know, Yeosang was only cleaning so he could have a blank canvas. 
> 
> Any rating

It is the tail end of summer when Mingi comes across this particularly wretched piece of art outside his apartment building. Living just outside the university campus that sprawls approximately half their city and hails students from far and wide, Mingi has probably come across all sorts of on-the-wall graffiti arts. 

Art students using the vast expanse of plain, beige walls of the range of apartment complexes as their own personal practice-pads, frustrated students scribbling out expletives and choice messages or the ever-favorite renditions of penises. 

Now, Mingi is a simple natural science student, so even if he doesn’t understand the wisdom behind the scribbled “X loves Y 5ever” messages, he does understand the overarching avant-garde message of this form of art. But even then, a wobbly dick painted a wall’s length in neon green front and center of their apartment entrance is just not it. 

He passes by it on a Monday when he is returning from his part time at the nearby diner, energy zapped up and his shirt sticking to his back as the heat beats down relentlessly. He stands in front of it for a hot minute, frustration ramping as he thinks about all the ways he can remove the wretched thing off the wall. 

His mind runs with the intense scenarios from Mingi apprehending the culprit and giving him a piece of his mind to getting a bucket of soap water and rag and cleaning the entire wall up. He climbs the stairs all the way to his apartment with gusto, even goes as far as searching for a dirty rag or a bucket to carry water in. 

But the cool air of the aircon is a blessing, and San has put on his favorite romcom episode, and somehow, in between one bite of pizza and the next, he decides he might as well handle this the next day. Maybe when he doesn’t have a whole day job and the concrete pavements stop steaming so much.

The next time Mingi comes across the offensive dick, he is on his way to a frat party, and one simply does not miss those. 

“Leave it dude,” Yunho finds him frowning at the wall as they make their way back from the party, drunk and wasted. He places a heavy hand on Mingi’s back, almost buckling the poor guy over – seriously, sometimes Yunho simply forgets he carries a considerable weight in that large body of his and he is decidedly NOT a small puppy – “once upon a time the local facilities commissioned a cleanup of the walls around this area, and the art department volunteered to fill this up with some good graffiti—” Yunho stops talking to burp loudly, smacking his lips after and groaning while holding his head and leaning heavier on Mingi’s shoulder. 

Mingi adjusts him, trying not to let the guy fall, “… and then?”

“hmm?” Yunho looks at him, eyes dazed and a loopy grin – the usual – on his face. 

“And then? What happened to the cleanup?” Mingi prompts. 

“Oh that?” Yunho stumbles a few paces ahead, using both his hands to point the walls around them. “if you squint hard enough, you can still see some art on here.” Apparently, that bit was the funniest anecdote ever, because then Mingi’s dumb ass best friend proceeds to giggle into his hands and does not stop until he is laid out in Mingi’s bed and hugging his favorite plushy to sleep. 

Mingi plants face down next to Yunho, and re-imagines his solo conquest of “Project Clean Up” as he falls asleep. 

And that’s on that about the issue – Mingi is a busy man trying to earn his keep and attend as many frat events as possible before the start of the next semester when he would inevitably be swallowed up in grueling courses and caffeinated all-nighters. 

It is not until a few weeks later, in the wee days of the new semester when Mingi’s attention is once again taken up by the graffiti walls. It's in the shape of a blonde guy he is not sure he has seen before rigorously wiping down the offensive neon dick off the wall. He seems to be fully prepared – decked out with the paraphernalia Mingi imagines must be optimal in removing ink stains from painted walls. 

The summer heat hadn’t relinquished its hold yet, but the guy works hard. Sweat beads across his face and neck, running down his nose and side and his shirt sticks to his back as he continues his hard work. Wiping up and down, cleaning meticulously until the original white of the wall becomes visible.

The first peak of the walls original color impresses Mingi so much he doesn’t realize he has whistled – long and tuny. The guy stops, turning around to fix Mingi with a serious look.

“Hey!” Mingi offers up a half hand-wave, smiling brightly. The guy continues staring impassively, before slowly turning around, wetting his rag in the soap water and continuing his mission cleanup.

“Nice work,” Mingi offers, touching a patch of white wall for the first time since he moved into the apartment complex. “To be honest, that neon dick was just too much don’t you think?” 

The guy continues working quietly with such a single-minded focus on his task that he completely ignores Mingi’s existence. Not that Mingi is very hard to miss, he is tall, and objectively speaking kind of a catch. Kind of famous too, but he wouldn’t be found bragging about it. 

But then, the guy in question is really pretty too. Now that Mingi has a chance to look carefully. Actually, he is _very_ pretty – and in a very conventional way too. 

“Hey look, sorry for the whistling earlier,” Mingi scratches the back of his neck, “it’s just I live here, and this—” he gestures broadly at the wall, “this thing showed up not long ago and I’ve been meaning to clean it up myself.”

That makes the guy pause, he looks up – his eyes are (also) very pretty, not that Mingi is staring (maybe just a little bit) – and raises a single brow. 

Oh-hoho and that- wow.

That’s some expertly shaped brow, not that Mingi is noticing, again. This guy just has a really pretty brow – and boy does Mingi know about nice brows, he knows Park Seonghwa after all and that one was definitely sculpted by the lesser gods of art themselves it seems. 

So he appreciates a good face and some good eyes and some good lips—Mingi clears his throat. 

“How about I help you?” Mingi offers. 

The guy turns back to the wall, rubbing at the wall again, “Sure.” 

Wait. “Uh…” 

Blondie turns around to fix Mingi with a look at this, taking it for hesitation, and looks at him with an expression that is somehow between smug playfulness and annoyance. How does one even manage that? 

“It’s okay either way.” He shrugs. 

That gets Mingi moving faster than shark in a triathlon. “Oh yes! Of course!” 

He runs up the stairs to his apartment without a second glance, quickly searching through all the available rags around the house. He only finds a dirty towel that belongs to San in the laundry. Mingi takes a two second pause before deciding San and he can just share his clean one and rips it in half as he runs back downstairs. 

Mingi follows the blonde’s lead, dipping and rubbing. They work hard in relative silence save for Mingi’s whistling and his usual ramblings until he himself is drenched in sweat and seeing double. 

He does find out the blonde’s name is Yeosang (pretty like him, of course) and that he likes to skateboard around the block. They go to the same university, so it’s a bit of a surprise for Mingi to have never seen the guy around, but then, it’s a huge campus. 

And anyway, Mingi has his duties between his part times, his courses, and his frat so it makes sense for them having missed each other. 

It had been a particularly humid and hot spell, and soon they are both sprawled on the warm concrete sidewalk, taking the last sips of the water Mingi had filled up from his apartment a few times over. From the vantage, he can see the results of their hard work and he is quite impressed. 

“We should call it a day,” Yeosang speaks up, jumping to his feet and collecting his stuff. “Let’s continue later?” 

It is posed as a question. Mingi beams, “Of COURSE!” 

Yeosang giggles, hiding his teeth behind a hand. It’s a soft sound, unlike his deep voice or his strong hands and his eyes twinkle up and oh—

Oh boy Yeosang is very pretty overall. ( _objectively ofcourse_ ).

“I’ll see you later” Yeosang waves a hand as he walks away. Mingi beams after him, waving until Yeosang has turned the corner and it is only then that he realizes he never asked when that later would be. 

Oh well.

\---

“You look kinda dopey” Yunho places a shameful amount of hardbound books on the table just inches from Mingi’s face. 

“Ow—Dude!!” Mingi whines, “I almost _died_ there.” Mingi grumbles, moving back and rubbing his precious, straight as fuck, absolutely jaw-dropping, gorgeous nose. (He’s just really proud of it.) 

“Hmm…” Yunho scratches his chin as he takes a seat, narrowing his eyes and pushing his face in Mingi’s personal space across the table, “are you in love?” 

Mingi splutters, he barks out a laugh but it gets caught in his throat and he ends up choking on his spit instead. Unfortunately, it is all the ammunition Yunho needs to believe his own concocted tales. A downright evil grin spreads over his face as he leans back, picking up his phone, fingers flying across the screen without so much as a glance towards it, all the while scrutinizing Mingi. 

“Bro—” Mingi looks between Yunho’s grin and his phone, thumping his chest to clear his air passage, “wh-what are you doing?”

“ _Nothing~_ ” Yunho singsongs, putting his phone down. Mingi squints at him, but he doesn’t get to for long as his own phone starts pinging with messages from their gang. 

“Oh no…” Mingi groans, swiping through the messages. “Oh no oh no oh nooo— Yunho!” Mingi exclaims, eyeing a particularly emotional spiel by Hongjoong about frat loyalty and ‘bros before hoes.’

“I AM NOT IN LOVE! WHAT THE FUC-” he stops in time because the library assistant gives them an especially sour look – they were kind of known to be the loudest science students in the entire complex, and Mingi would argue that it was a bit wrong, there was definitely Kim Jaehwan and Ha Sungwoon from the music department and their merry band of ‘Wanna One’ brotherhood, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Bro, I am NOT in love okay?” he stage-whispers, pitching his voice low, “and you had NO need snitching to Kim Hongjoong.” 

“We will find out the truth,” a voice sounds from behind him as cold hands clasp his neck in a soft grip. Mingi yelps, dropping his head at the table as Seonghwa takes a seat next to him, smiling beatifically at Mingi while his work-spouse (and lesser-half – although you would rather find Mingi dead than admitting it to Hongjoong’s face because he values his life) flanks his other side. 

“He will have to go through proper initiation. We just cannot allow someone random like that.” Hongjoong pronounces, “What’s his name? Number? Which department does he belong to? You _know_ we cannot allow non-sciency in, right?” 

“I’m not—” Mingi tries, but it’s futile because Kim Hongjoong’s mind is already abuzz with torture methods for interrogation of this supposed love-interest of Mingi’s and he would rather go down in flames than let Mingi walk two steps away from his hawk-eyes. 

“Darling, honey, the love of my life—” Seonghwa says with the patience of a saint, “please breathe.” Mingi perks up, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad— “We will parse through the truth all in good time.” 

Mingi groans, dropping his head back down, hard, but not before fixing his gaze on his now ex-bro, for having snitched on him to Hwa and Joong, with a very murderous and very real look. 

Yunho just shrugs in response. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately given Hongjoong’s watchful eye around Mingi for his beau), Mingi does not see Yeosang until a week later. By that time the novelty of Mingi possibly liking someone has worn off, and even San, the ever-persistent worm in Mingi’s simple life, has given up sniffing around. 

It is not like Mingi had more than Yeosang’s name to go by anyway, and there can be any number of Yeosangs around a campus as big as theirs, so it would have been difficult for his gang to find him had he relinquished the name. 

What it means for Mingi personally though, is a completely different story. Every blonde head has Mingi looking again, turning around as subtly as he can whenever he is with a friend to try and catch a glimpse of those particular set of twinkly amber eyes or that delicate face or that slender figure. It has Yunho absolutely jumping out of his skin with agitation (like the good puppy he is to Hwa and Joong – Mingi has still not forgiven him for the betrayal) because it's never Yeosang. 

The weather has taken a turn to pleasant night breezes, it's almost the middle of September, and Mingi is returning from his evening class on a Thursday. Whoever said having evening classes was alright as long as the professor was a good one was WRONG. It is NOT. And Mingi would fight them (he wouldn’t, it was Hongjoong) because Engineering mathematics until 6:30 PM is not normal _or_ natural. 

He drags his feet, a tub of his favorite ice cream dangling from a plastic bag, when his spine straightens on its own accord, energy suddenly zipping through his fingertips and an automatic smile breaking out.

It's Yeosang! Clad in an oversized hoodie with his usual stuff of graffiti removal at the ready, already at work. 

“Yeosang!” Mingi runs up to him, “Back again?” 

Yeosang turns around at his call, waving him over. “Yea, I had some free time.”

“Want me to help?” Mingi says, even as he is throwing his bag aside and placing his tub of ice cream down on the pavement and picking up his rug (Yes! His rug! Yeosang was still carrying it along with all the stuff) and dunking it in the water. 

“Hey—Haha” Yeosang laughs, lightly touching his wrist to stop him. “I am fine. You seem tired as it is, I don’t want to impose.” Mingi’s heart squeezes at Yeosang’s hesitant tone towards the end. 

“Not an imposition at all!” Mingi offers back, smiling wide to communicate the depth of okay-ness this was. “I don’t have any classes tomorrow anyway. Besides, it's such a shame our hard work with the other wall was so short lived.”

They both look back at the wall they had been cleaning last week. They had made good progress, having completely removed the offensive neon dick, they had even gone as far as cleaning around it and almost covered the whole wall. Shame that it had taken only two days for some hooligan to have filled it with some colorful art graffiti. 

“At least it is colorful.” Mingi muses, wringing his rug and starting work on the wall Yeosang had chosen this time. “This one seems like a true artist. Even though they washed our hard work down within a few days, I am glad this time it’s not dicks or scribbles of love confessions.” Mingi shudders, the absolute grossness of the previously written messages playing in his mind’s eye. “I’d say it’s a vast improvement!” 

Yeosang stays quiet, still looking at the wall pensively, a slight redness shining on his nose and neck. Mingi stops his rambling (and wiping), “Unless you want to clean it up again…?”

This snaps Yeosang out of his stance, “Oh no! Yeah, haha.” he rubs at his nape, small smile playing at the corners of his lips and no, it does not flutter Mingi’s heart at all but yeah, it does, a little. 

“A vast improvement.” Yeosang continues, he says it like he is testing the words out on his tongue, balancing them on his breath and deciding if he likes the way they sound. Mingi clasps a hand on his shoulders like he has seen Hongjoong do to whoever feels dejected – it is also known to work wonders, this off-key and awkward shoulder touching, Mingi can attest to that – and hopes it makes Yeosang feel better for all his hard work being gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Yes, it's very artsy and cool. There’s so much scribbling on these walls the new one looks like a fresh breather.” The new graffiti is a cool modern style rendition of a five-petal flower spanning almost the entirety of the wall. It blends at the seams where Mingi and Yeosang hadn’t quite been able to clean up, using the nonsensical scribbling to frame the burst of colors in the middle. 

Now that Mingi looks at it, even in the waning light of the evening, it looks fresh and nice. It adds a joyful vibe to the entire place. Not to mention each colorful stroke has been done so meticulously, each and every petal colored with such detail that it must have taken the creator a long night to even get the outline going. Definitely more effort in the making of it than it went in cleaning the previous rubble off, if Mingi is being honest. 

Even if he wanted to, he cannot wash it off – “If I am being honest, that art belongs in someone’s sketchpad or on a canvas, not on these filthy walls. Would definitely catch a good buck for sure.” Mingi muses, as he helps Yeosang clean their current wall up. 

“Hmm,” Yeosang nods, thoughtful. “I just hope no one draws that big green dick all over it again.” 

“I will fight them this time,” Mingi pumps his fists in the air, puffing his chest and face up, “I’m serious!” It has Yeosang peeling with laughter, so Mingi laughs too. And just like that, Yeosang’s pensive mood breaks, which Mingi is forever thankful for, because thank fuck for his comedy skills that he had cultivated meticulously over the three years of his frat life. 

And it’s the sort of laugh that has Yeosang clutching his sides as he laughs more, and soon, it becomes a contest of who can make the other laugh more. At one point in the night Mingi runs up to grab some spoons and more water, and they drink the melted ice cream and rub the wall clean. 

Maybe it is the self-satisfaction of his voluntary community service in making the neighborhood a cleaner place (although it was Yeosang’s initial idea but hey! Mingi is also working hard) that Mingi’s heart feels really full. So much that he doesn’t even notice the aches and pains that come with rubbing ink off a wall until he cannot move the next morning and he is lying twitching on his own bed, another dopey smile plastered on his face. 

He would honestly do this again in a heartbeat. 

\---

Somehow spending time with Yeosang on Thursday evenings rubbing ink off walls becomes sort of a ritual. Each Thursday, Mingi would return from his evening math class, head buzzing with too many numbers and snacks hanging in one hand. And each Thursday, they would clean another wall off while enjoying snacks and conversation. And like clockwork, Mingi would return drunk and wasted from yet another frat party on campus on a Saturday to find the outlines of another impressive graffiti in the works. 

And on Mondays when Mingi would come out for his morning jog, the completed artwork would stand in all its glory, bright burst of colors a sweet contrast to the golden wisps of soft morning light, another flower blooming, beaming and twinkling up at the sun. 

As for Yeosang, he is a slow converser. Mingi would have said a million things before Yeosang would shyly offer up a little piece about himself. The week when Mingi walked out to a camellia blooming on the wall they had cleaned last Thursday, Mingi finds out Yeosang is a science student as well (thank fuck, for just in case if Hongjoong decides to initiate Yeosang. Or not. Not that Mingi is hoping anything to happen here of course.) And just like Mingi, he had been naturally good at all things science, so it had been a natural progression for him to follow it along. 

It’s on the week when a bouquet of carnations greets his morning jog that he finds out Yeosang was a naturally gifted artist. He had always been good at it at school, but his parents had been distinguished surgeons, so he was also expected to follow in their footsteps. In the end he had convinced them to become a botanist instead, he had a love for plants and gardening, and it also freed up much of his time to pursue his minor in arts. 

But what really stands out for Mingi, however, is the week he notices that Yeosang has a birthmark on the left side of his face. Having worked beside the guy a night for a considerable number of weeks, Mingi is gut-punched at the discovery. 

Yeosang usually wears a hairstyle that has his hair falling over his eyes, which he keeps pushing back with his oversized hoodies – they keep getting fluffier as the weather turns and it’s not enough to come out of the house without a warmer layer. This time, he had worn a beanie, having come to their assorted time right out of a shower, hair sticking to his face and pushed back by said red beanie. 

Mingi had sat there a little shocked, until Yeosang had noticed his staring, and then connected the dots. His reaction had been almost instant, pulling the hat down and grabbing a few strands of hair to fall over the mark. That had snapped Mingi out of his rude-staring, and he had reached out instantly, holding his thin wrists before he could cover up the entire thing. 

“It looks like a maple leaf!” Mingi had offered excitedly, ignoring the painful squeeze of his heart at Yeosang’s reaction. He was a beautiful boy with a beautiful heart, and the world better learn it or Mingi was gonna go up in arms. Letting his fingers gently push the hair back in, Mingi had smiled, “It’s beautiful.” 

Mingi still does not know where he had gotten that much confidence from, but it had happened, and Yeosang hadn’t shrugged his hand away immediately disgusted, but had smiled his on-brand shy smile where he kept trying to stop himself from smiling and ended up smiling harder and honestly? All was good. 

If Mingi is being honest, apart from his morning jogs and the occasional workouts that his frat bro Jongho forced him to partake in or attend Saturday night frat parties, cleaning walls off on a Thursday with Yeosang is the only regular thing he follows through. It is amazing how well they work together, and that too without any contact over the week at all. Everything with Yeosang is a surprise, because how else would you explain the single-minded focus of someone who cleans walls off for someone else to draw on almost immediately. 

But then, maybe not everyone is as selfish as Mingi, who had had fevered dreams of wiping that one neon dick off from his OWN apartment wall for weeks but had always been just lazy enough to stew in self-righteous anger and not actually do anything about it. 

His regularity has Yunho sniffing around him again, and by October, Yunho has included San in the “Lookout for what Mingi does on his Thursday nights” mission. San, bless his soul, has better things to do – read: bump uglies with his boyfriend Wooyoung – so Mingi is mostly never questioned. What’s more, one night in the entire week San gets the apartment to himself to do as he pleases, so they come to a sort of understanding about it. 

Thankfully, (Mingi _is_ a little weird so no judging, he likes maths as a passion and cleans community walls the night before his long weekend and pines after a pretty boy--) Seonghwa and Hongjoong and the rest of their crew is too busy with their sciency midterms in October so it's just Yunho at his tail. 

His efforts pay off one Thursday when Mingi freezes his balls off waiting for Yeosang, for three hours, before deciding that midterm week is just too important to catch a cold and making his way to the library because San and Woo are at it, per their agreement and naturally, Mingi is sexiled for the night. 

He is sitting slurping ramyun in the eating-friendly zone of the library and stewing in the hilarity of the situation that it's been weeks—no, _months_ since he and Yeosang started their little outing and he does not have his number or any way to contact him when Yunho finds him. And like the absolute heathen he is, he presses right where it hurts. 

This is how he does it. Taking up a seat next to Mingi and rubbing soothing, gentle circles at his back while humming along to the song Mingi is playing on the tiny speakers of his phone, he throws out a “Boy troubles?” 

Mingi is feeling too relaxed and honestly? Just that bit touched that Yunho would provide comfort and warmth at 10 PM on a Thursday night during mid-week that he sighs out, “I don’t even have his number.” 

Like a particularly nasty detective, Yunho perks up like a Christmas tree. Mingi immediately realizes his error, biting his tongue and burying his face in Yunho’s lap. He feels around and places a firm hand over where Yunho’s own had been inching towards his phone, picking it out with ease. 

(Those wall cleaning sessions had given Mingi’s wrist added strength, much to Jongho’s annoyance when he would find it just a bit harder to defeat Mingi in arm-wrestling matches. You know, compared to before when he used to annihilate anyone in his path.)

Mingi smirks, holding Yunho’s phone close to his chest. “You fool me one time? Your fault. Two times? My fault.” 

“I wasn’t even gonna do anything!” Yunho protests, with all the believability of a cat that has already got the cream and is currently sitting in the midst of their own projected mess. “Come on, tell me. I can help find them.”

“Yeah. No.” Mingi scoffs, “the first thing you are gonna do is snitch to the boys and I don’t need that in my life right now.” 

“You know I would need to enlist the help of the entire gang to find a guy you have been pining after for months now and you don’t even have the number of yet.” Yunho lays a gentle hand on Mingi’s back, looking at him with an expression that is somehow supposed to be comforting but all it does is set Mingi’s teeth at edge. 

“I have _not_ been pining.” Mingi mumbles, pouting and slurping his noodles again. Mistake, because Yunho has his phone in his hands again, the lech, he never meant to comfort Mingi in the first place!

“Yaaa!” Mingi whines, trying to throw himself bodily at his best friend. It works—somehow. Yunho stops, putting his phone back in his pocket and holding Mingi before he falls right off the chair and face plants on the floor. 

“So you say,” Yunho steals his chopsticks and eats a hearty bite from his noodles, chewing obnoxiously before continuing, “but you sit there moping because you don’t have his number—wait! OH MY GOD! THURSDAY NIGHT! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW” 

Another sour look from the late-night library assistant, a surly (but hot af) looking fellow from the Exo frat. He is mostly chill, unless his rest is somehow disturbed. Then he charges you for being a nuisance in the “study” zone. Mingi and Yunho bow their heads in apology before Yunho continues in hushed tones.

“Seriously! All this time you refused to spend time with me on Thursdays and would be absolutely lethargic and downright gooey on Friday mornings. You’ve been meeting your crush!” If Yunho had a tail, it’d be wagging. He is just such a naturally loveable and excitable person that it ignites this _need_ to pat him when he gets this hyped. Mingi just narrows his eyes and leans back on the couch. 

“I am neither confirming nor denying your allegations.” He sniffs. 

“So I AM right! Haha- “Yunho claps both hands together, shiftily eyeing his phone from the table top. If Mingi was any lesser of a man he would have knocked Yunho over by now, but it’s a sin to hurt puppies. Besides, Yunho is his best friend, and he also knows all of Mingi’s dirty secrets. 

Wait. 

He CANNOT meet Yeosang. It would be DISASTROUS. 

“Come on Mingi~” Yunho whines, bouncing his legs up and down excitedly. “Give us _something_.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Mingi shakes his head, not in a _million_ years. “not ‘ _us_ ’”. Yunho makes the most dejected of faces, and his hypothetical ears droop. “Only if you promise you won’t tell a soul?” Mingi offers instead. He knows he would regret this, but he is desperate. And while Yunho is a snitch, he has the absolute best detective skills so maybe he _can_ find Yeosang?

“Yes!” Yunho nods happily, and then more solemnly, “cross my heart and hope to die if I betray my bros.”

Bros. huh. Plural. It sounds fake, but desperate times and desperater measures right?

“His name’s Yeosang—” at the high-pitched squealing from Yunho, Mingi and the library attendant both take a 2 second pause from whatever the fuck they are doing to squint at him.

“As I was saying, his name is Yeosang.” Mingi finishes, a bit lamely. 

“Wait—that’s it?” Yunho looks kinda confused and that—seriously what HAS Mingi been doing the past two months?

“Uh… he attends the Botany department? I think he is in the same year as us—third. Umm what else?” Mingi rakes his brain for all the information he had gleaned from his conversations and realizes what a big cucumber he has been. Always talking and never listening. Before he can once again descend into another bout of self-pity though, another little snippet from their conversations lights up. 

“Oh yes! He is also an art minor!” Was he an art minor? Did he just like art? Mingi is 100% sure there was _some_ talk about liking art and being naturally gifted at it, but had Yeosang ever said he was pursuing it? Like explicitly? As an after-thought, he adds, “… I think.”

“You…. think.” Yunho looks at him. No expression, Yunho just sits there as Mingi cringes within himself and _looks_ at him. After a while, as Mingi attempts to eat his now very soggy and very bland noodles Yunho speaks again. “What’s his last name?” 

“His last name is—” that has Mingi stopping short yet again. He only knows Yeosang as Yeosang. He sometimes calls him ‘Sangie’, when he is in a particularly teasing mood, and mostly calls him ‘skater-boy’ for all the times Yeosang has shown him some quick moves on the pavement right outside their apartment complex as they let their arms rest and fingers breath. 

“He likes skating.” Mingi offers instead, turning his nose up at Yunho’s pitiful look and finishing off his ramyun. “it’s alright, we _will_ meet again next Thursday, I will just ask for his number then.” 

Speaking of Thursdays, Mingi had only waited for 3 hours. What if Yeosang had simply shown up later? He fishes his books off the table, hastily stuffing them into the bag and shouldering it. “See you later, dude.” His stomach does a little flip at that and he flops back down on the chair with a wail. “Yeosang says that every time we part.” 

“There, there” Yunho looks on him with pity in his eyes as he pats his back with one hand and texts with the other. “We _will_ find this elusive Yeosang from the botany department who is good in arts and likes skateboarding for you. Don’t you worry my dear.” 

Mingi’s thanks is muffled in his arms, but he does hope Yunho succeeds. 

\---

The week goes by slowly, and the artist who has been steadily mooching off their cleaned walls as their blank canvas and gaining a fair following for themselves is also mysteriously “missing” the following Monday. On their designated ‘drink and party’ Saturday nights, Mingi feels Hongjoong’s concerned eyes following him around. For once though, he doesn’t poke Mingi for an explanation, and Mingi is left to mope in the corner as he nurses his drink instead of dancing right in the middle of the dance floor. 

He hadn’t realized how much he had gotten used to the idea of hanging with Yeosang and just how regular it had been. 

Thursday takes a long time to come, but Yeosang arrives with it before Yunho can come up with his ‘missing persons’ search so Mingi forgets all about the man-hunt his best friend had been organizing and welcomes Yeosang with his new hoodie and his new beanie and his twinkly eyes and his pretty birthmark with open arms. 

Yeosang returns his hugs like he does everything, shyly at first before melting into it and clinging like a little baby koala. Mingi shudders with the warmth and comfort that suddenly puts his fingertips buzzing. He had meant to ask for his last name, if not his number – Yeosang was shy, Mingi had no doubt he would give it to him when he felt comfortable – but he forgets all about it. 

Once they part (naturally, not unlike long time friends and it surprises Mingi at the intimacy of it all – all the while not knowing each other’s last names), Yeosang scuffs his feet on the pavement. He looks up from behind his eyelashes and offers another small smile. 

“I am sorry about last week. I caught a flu.” And just like that, they fall back in their own rhythm. Mingi fusses over him for a long time, they take a walk to the nearby 7/11 and buy soup before they set to work. Hard work is probably bad for someone’s health when they are recovering from sickness, but Yeosang insists he needs this workout and he has been pampered just enough by his own roommate that he would die of boredom if Mingi keeps this up. 

And who is Mingi to say no. 

This time when they fall back in their original schedule – almost seamlessly – it is with their numbers exchanged and names saved ( _with_ surnames this time, “it’s just weird not to be called ‘SONG MINGIII!’ when someone angrily screams my name, you know?” Mingi had offered one day. “Oh yea, definitely, unless its ‘KANG YEOSAAAANG!’ it just doesn’t make any sense for all the angry screaming, it’s the principle of the thing.” Yeosang had offered, nodding sagely and that had been that.) 

\---

Initially, it was always a surprise when a new artwork hadn’t appeared every week, but they are only students in their junior years, and there is just so much hard work they can squeeze with the hell that’s assignments and projects. Seriously, fuck exams, it seems more and more of Mingi’s time is spent trying to complete 1 billion case studies and simulations from hell. 

So, save for those weeks when Mingi and Yeosang decide to spend their time studying in a library instead, each Monday there is a new treat for everyone in the locality. The novelty hits hard, and soon people start noticing the trend. He would often come out for his early morning jogs to find a few people taking aesthetic photos with the emerging graffiti, vloggers walking up and down the block filming the brand-new art piece. 

It’s a slow process over all, Mingi would know, but soon everyone and their mamas are talking about it. He finds out when he walks in on a study session organized by Seonghwa for everyone where instead of partying on Saturday, they trudge through their own projects and assignments hand-in-hand. To be fair, they had needed it too. It had been one of those spells when everything seems to be due almost at once, and there is little time to do anything else, much less getting shit wasted and burning through your Sunday lying prone on the floor of your bathroom emptying the contents of your stomach. Only Seonghwa, the ever-level-headed half of the leadership of their frat could put this idea forward AND have everyone showing up with their back-packs. 

Yeosang and Mingi had once again spent the time in the library (“just like a study-date!” Mingi had offered excitedly, and had immediately blubbered a thousand other things in case Yeosang notices the slip of his tongue because _goddamn_ is Mingi good at making things awkward. 

He doesn’t even know if Yeosang is gay, much less available.) 

“I haven’t seen a new bloom on the wall this week,” Jongho muses, working diligently on his worksheets. 

“Oh yea,” Hongjoong pipes up, “I have been noticing them too. They are so cool! And to think someone does a whole wall worth of art almost every week—respect.” He is lying with his head in Seonghwa’s lap, precariously balanced on two chairs pulled just a bit apart. Perks of being so small, Mingi supposes. 

“What’s the most interesting though is that the artist has been cleaning the walls up too. Just imagining the amount of work that takes,” Seonghwa mimics a shudder, holding his arm up and squeezing his newly made guns in a very obvious display for the audience. A few whistles sound from around the room as Hongjoong grimaces, unruffling himself from Seonghwa’s lap and setting his iPad he had been reading from down with a loud bang. 

Mingi – torn between cooing at Hongjoong’s ruffled feathers and bristling at the implication of Seonghwa’s words – closes his laptop with a bang of its own. Immediately, 5 pairs of eyes snap up to look at him, expectant. He rubs his nape, offering sheepishly, “Bathroom?” and legs it out of there. 

His initial plan had been to actually visit the loo and maybe splash his face with some water and contemplate his own need for validation for ‘project clean-up’ but he turns right once he is sure he cannot be seen by his gang, whose eyes he can feel burning into his back throughout. 

Fresh air helps, and soon he finds himself loitering around the campus. It had been a long study session and a longer spell of constant race to submit one assignment after another. The only workout Mingi got was his usual morning jogs – Jongho had hurt his leg in a frenzied basketball match and had left Mingi to his own devices. 

He breathes in deep. The atmosphere around the campus is almost lazy this time of the day, the evening chill settling in the air like a blanket and sneaking up under all the warm layers one wears to freeze everything until the bone marrow. Mingi had always liked cool nights, the snow brought with it the promise of Christmas festivities. There was just so much to look forward to in the fall semester. 

Lost in thought, Mingi finds himself circling the little garden outside the botany department. How and when he had ended up here Mingi doesn’t know – there is a good kilometer or two between where they usually hang and the botany department building. 

Freezing, Mingi spots the on-campus café and ducks in for a quick shot of warmth. It is only after ordering a large venti of steaming hot chocolate that Mingi pats around and finds that in his haste he had forgotten his phone and wallet at the frat house.

“Shit,” Mingi curses, patting around his large jacket and offers a sheepish smile to the clearly annoyed barista. “Uh- do you do credit?”

“Here, I got it.” Mingi turns around, coming face to face with the man of his dreams—with Yeosang. He looks tired, eye bags prominent in the bright lights of the café but eyes twinkling like always. Mingi cannot help but beam loudly. 

“Hey man! Fancy meeting you here.” Yeosang just laughs, his trademark behind the hand little giggle as he pays for their drinks – in Yeosang’s case it is a foaming latte with a small slice of cinnamon roll topped with little rainbow sprinkles. It is one thing to have a sweet tooth, which he knew after their countless ice-cream runs to the convenience store during their late-night cleaning rendezvous. But it is entirely another thing to prefer sprinkles on your cinnamon roll. Mingi raises a brow at the condiment, which earns him a hit to his arm – well-deserved and a small “shut up”.

It suits him though, very on-brand with his yet another bright colored beanie and matching runners, red hoodie. Mingi himself is in his all black outfit that is just nice enough to be acceptable in his social circles. But it is the mids season and who is he to complain about a little flash of color. Especially when it comes in the nice Yeosang shaped package. They make their way to a corner seat before Yeosang speaks up. 

“This is the biological sciences turf though? What’s an engineering student like you doing so far from home?” It’s not that Mingi is too busy noticing the pretty curve of Yeosang's mouth but that is exactly what he is doing. It's just so rare to see him in blinding lights, most of their interactions illuminated by streetlights and dim 7/11s. 

“Sometimes, us poor Engineering students also want to enjoy some good coffee and company.” Mingi replies, before immediately realizing the slip of his tongue – thinking of a good solid joke to dilute the words.

Yeosang just raises a single brow, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “So, did you find it?”

Static, that’s what buzzes through Mingi’s mind. He looks around, making a show of scanning the place before turning around and shrugging. “It’ll do.”

Yeosang laughs, hiding his teeth behind his hands as mirth takes over the eye bags under his eyes. It is one of the best looks on the guy, and Mingi tries not to put his head on his palm and just stare at him for the entire night but that is exactly what he is doing.

Yeosang stops, eventually, taking a dainty bite out of his roll, looking at Mingi carefully.

“Did you need a sugar run away from your books too?”

“Something like that.” Mingi laughs. Run away he did. But not from his books, but he is careful enough to not mention that to Yeosang because then he will have to divulge into _why_ he was running from his friends and well. There is no easy way to confess it’s because they suspect Mingi is whipped for him. 

So Mingi just laughs instead, averting his eyes lest he makes everyone awkward again, (he has been finding himself in these situations much too often), and warms his hands on his steaming drink. It has Yeosang giggling again, and when Mingi looks up, he has a coffee foam on his lips. 

All thought ceases, the laughter shriveling up in his throat as Mingi’s world zooms in on a pink tongue lapping up the foam from his mouth. In his fantasy, Mingi leans forward and tastes it right off Yeosang’s lips like some celebrated k-drama lead but this is real life, and so Mingi takes a large gulp of his too hot drink and ends up screaming murder instead. 

The coffee goes everywhere, spurting from his mouth and nose and dribbles down his chin as Mingi coughs up a lung. 

“Oh no—” Yeosang shoots up from his seat, dabbing a bunch of napkins at his face and chin, one hand cradling Mingi’s head gently. It takes a while, until the coughing subsides and Mingi is left with a scalding tongue that he holds out. “You absolute fool,” Yeosang admonishes, disappearing for a minute and returning with a scoop of mint ice cream. 

Mingi accepts the proffered sweet thankfully, but when he moves to find the spoon, he finds Yeosang still standing beside him, left hand on Mingi’s nape and right hand holding the little spoon with a small serving of ice cream on it. He looks at him with big eyes, not unlike the cursed doe eyes emoji Yunho loves to send in their group chat. “Open up.” 

Not sure what, exactly, Yeosang is referring to, Mingi holds his burned tongue out. It seems like the right choice because then Yeosang is bending down and placing scoops of ice cream on Mingi’s tongue and chin while blowing gently – as if he could single-handedly will all the burns away. 

(Maybe he can. Maybe so.)

Mingi sits there, shell shocked and gay-panicked, accepting the most tender but weird treatment for burn he has ever received in his 22 years of life – and mind you, he knows Park Seonghwa, the lizard overload of everything gentle and soothing. 

“Your cheek is so red,” Yeosang hums in between puffs of breath as he carefully dabs at Mingi’s face with a wet wipe he procured from his bag. “Does it sting?” 

“No—” Mingi croaks, part burned throat and part panic at their proximity. Yeosang hums, seemingly satisfied and takes his seat again. Mingi clears his throat. 

“Thankfully the drink wasn’t as hot. Your burns are not that excessive.” Yeosang takes a dainty sip from his own tea-cup, foam smearing all over his top lip once again. “Does it hurt?” 

It does hurt, but not his cheek. There is a dull almost lascivious pain somewhere within Mingi’s chest cavity. Maybe he is coming down with a cold. “I’m okay.” He offers a smile, taking a dainty sip of his own drink. 

They sit there finishing their drinks in relative peace for some time before Yeosang snorts out a laugh. “Oh my god, I should have filmed it.” 

“HEY!” Mingi whines, bursting out in laughter again, “it was an _accid—_ HOLY FUCK” Mingi almost spews out his entire drink again, his eyes landing on the glass wall beside their seat. 

Yeosang, having startled out of his laugh at Mingi’s outburst (along with the entirety of the café – well, Mingi _can_ be loud sometimes, maybe all the times), follows his line of sight. 

As the fog clears from the glass, it reveals squinty eyes and a pressed nose of a certain Jeong Yunho. He is not doing anything, just staring through the glass partition at the couple inside with a good-for-nothing smirk playing at his lips. Before Mingi can react though, Yeosang pipes up from beside him. 

“Isn’t that Jeong Yunho?” Mingi looks back at Yeosang, he sits there unfazed at a very creepily staring Yunho attached like a lizard to the glass – well that can _not_ be hygienic – save for a slight blush dusting his cheeks. “What’s he doing?” 

Another fog blurs their view as Yunho breathes not unlike a particularly mischievous dragon and by the time it clears up Yunho is gone. “Beats me” Mingi shrugs.

Yunho reappears just a few seconds later into the café, strolling over to their corner seat in a strut fit for the runway. Mingi shakes his head, that’s the strut of a Yunho up to no good. 

“Well, hello~” Yunho takes a seat, immediately leaning back and crossing his legs as he drops Mingi’s phone and wallet on the table. “Who do we have here?” he raises a brow. 

Mingi would rather the earth swallow him up because knowing his best friend there is more of a chance of that happening than Yunho _not_ embarrassing Mingi in front of his crus—friend. “Yeosang, this is Yunho.” Mingi motions between them. “Yunho, Yeosang.”

“Hello Yeosang~” Yunho smiles brightly, voice saccharine and sticky. “we finally meet!” 

“H-hey” Yeosang stutters, offering a small wave, his hand almost engulfed in his oversized sweater. Yunho’s eyes practically twinkle at the scene before him as he gives Mingi the barest of high-glee glances, shifting the full weight of his attention back at Yeosang. 

Before he can say anything though, Mingi gets up, collecting his drink, phone and wallet and Yunho. “We better go. Hongjoong hyung is gonna kill us for ditching the study sessions.” 

Yunho resists, but Mingi manhandles him into standing back up as he whines. “But Yeosang is not finished with his ice cream” 

“Oh- haha” Yeosang stands up as well, collecting his own utensils, “that’s inedible. That was only first aid for Mingi’s burns” He offers in a small voice. 

Yunho smiles another sweet smile, “Yes, I know.” He looks back at Mingi, eyes bright. “I saw.” 

Mingi groans. This. This is why Yunho cannot be in Yeosang’s presence for more than a few minutes. This is already disastrous enough. Yeosang is fidgeting with the hem of his sweater, ears a bright crimson. Poor guy. 

Mingi swipes the ice cream off the table, stuffing a hearty amount in Yunho’s mouth as he opens it to utter more bullshit. Thrusting the cup in Yunho’s hands, Mingi helps Yeosang clean up the table, offering him a small grimace of a smile and a “sorry about him”. Yeosang shakes his head, whispering an “its okay” back. 

“Well, Yeosang is busy with his exams,” Mingi gives Yunho a meaningful look – bro literally just leave it be – and starts dragging him away. “See you later!”

Yunho, letting himself be dragged away only turns around to wave back at Yeosang too, “Bye! Yeosang~” his ‘Yeosang’ is syrupy, and oh does Mingi hate his best friend for making things so weird and practically ruining their fated meet up. 

“He’s really cute, definitely your type.” Yunho says once they are back on their way to the frat lounge. Mingi just glares at him, continuing to sulkily make his way back. “Bro, why so pensive again?” 

“I don’t have a _type_ —” Mingi starts, but leaves it be with a sigh. “Come on, what is it?” Yunho nudges him, bumping into his side. 

Mingi side-steps the worst of the pushes, sighing again and contemplating the wisps of fog from his breath. “He knew you.” 

“Huh” Yunho stops his attempts to bodily throw Mingi into the frozen benches. “What about it?”

“Nothing—” Mingi stops. Yeah, what about it? “Just wondering. What could you possibly have with the biological sciences department?” Yeah, that’s about it. Mingi is just curious. 

It’s not like it is everyday that someone can get known by the likes of Yeosang’s, hardworking, intelligent, beautiful Yeosangs who enjoy tending to plants and can probably talk the fish into doing elaborate swirl dances in water. 

He is definitely not _jealous_ , hah. Because that would be crazy. 

“I don’t know, maybe the art department?” Mingi peers at Yunho, so Yunho elaborates, “I modelled a few times for still art classes. You mentioned he is an arts minor, right? Maybe he knows me from those.” 

“Oh… hmm” Well that makes much more sense. It really does, but the uncomfortable feeling under Mingi’s skin is still there so he quickens his pace, breaking out into a jog.

“Woah—HEY!” Yunho calls out, joining his side once again. “Why are you running?”

“Am cold” Mingi offers, running harder. 

“Hey, look,” Yunho keeps up effortlessly, “Just because the guy you have been pining after for a semester knows me doesn’t mean you treat me like this.” 

Mingi pouts, “Why did _I_ never model for an arts class?” Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to fixate on because Yunho is positively gleaming with mirth now. 

“So you agree, you HAVE been pining for him.” Yunho says, practically bouncing on his feet. “Interesting. But to answer your question, every time I offered it to you, you said and I quote ‘I’d rather die than stand in front of a bunch of art geeks as they get my godly proportions wrong.’” 

“Ugh—” Mingi groans, slowing down and catching his breath. The frat lounge is within view, and he wants to end this conversation before they go in. 

“Um, Yunho.” Mingi musters up the puppiest of faces he can make, going for the doe eyed look that always works on Yunho and Hongjoong when they want something. “Would you know any way where I can sign up for live modelling?” 

Yunho laughs, he laughs so loud he bends over double and wheezes through his mouth. Mingi burns with shame – to trust your brother like so only for him to laugh in your face like that – and sniffs. “Never mind I said anything.” 

“No, no, look,” Yunho hisses in between peals of laughter, “That module has already ended.” He straightens up, wiping a tear off his eye, “You can sign up next time the course is offered though. Not sure if it’ll work.”

“UGHH!” Mingi crouches onto the floor. 

He is an absolute IDIOT!

Yunho crouches beside him, “Let us help?” Mingi looks up at Yunho, not trusting his voice as emotions rail him left, right and center. He looks sincere for a change. The placating back-petting helps – again – and Mingi—Mingi has probably never felt this vulnerable in his entire life. 

Yeosang, for a lack of better words, is the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful boy Mingi has come to know. He has never felt such a strong emotion – whatever it is at this point – for anyone before. He gulps his anxiety down and for like always, lays his utter trust in his best friend. Yunho may like to jerk around often but he is a sweetheart and so – 

Mingi nods.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this so far, I love ALL of you who made it till here <3 <3 Stay tuned for the next part (*￣з￣) and let me know if you enjoyed it so far uwu


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